The One Shot Elena And Damon Collection
by Lady Bloodless
Summary: A collection of one-shots in no particular order using word-prompts to describe the evolution of their relationship with one another.
1. For The First Time In Decades

**Title**: First Time In Decades  
**Fandom**: The Vampire Diaries (Drabble)  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Characters**: Damon and Elena  
**Prompt**: Tired  
**Word Count**:  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters.

For the first time in decades Damon Salvatore was _tired. _Once again he was cheated out of something he had foolishly believed to be his and his alone—Katherine. The tomb had been devoid of her vast presence, which he now reflected he should have felt upon entering. The ugly truth that had loomed up out of the darkness in that dusty, dank hole in the ground had been enough to shake him of his meticulously constructed façade.

_She did not come for me. She never tried to find me… _

Generally speaking he was not one to wallow in self-pity for more than an hour at a time and that was only to be done in between 'snacks' as he preferred to call them. Noisy Happy Meals on legs, oh how he delighted in seeing them kick and scream.

Tonight was an exception; he would wallow in what was left of a dream. His maniacal plan had not worked out after all and he suspected that dear Stefan was infinitely pleased. He had been at a loss for words when Damon had informed him of his grim discovery and for a moment he seemed to play at concern before realizing he still had what he wanted: Elena.

_I died for you, you wretched bitch._

Quick-silver eyes flared with anguish, despairing at the moment that he had let his guard down enough to even _allow _Elena Gilbert to come within 100 yards of his person. She had embraced him in such a way that you would think she had lost something down there, she had apologized in such a way that you would think it was her fault that Katherine had not been there.

When it finally dawned on him that he was accepting pity from a human he had gently pushed her away, glancing over the top of her head to see Stephen's troubled expression. On any other occasion he might have reveled in the uncertainty mirrored in his brother's usually inscrutable eyes.

But not tonight.

His steps home were weary and completely lacking of the self-awareness that had once consumed his everyday demeanor. Those hours spent staring into the fire had luckily guaranteed the eventual departure of Stefan back into his own hidey-hole where he would no doubt scribble in one of his journals about how unfair life was for the one Salvatore brother with a conscience. The noise of the front door opening did not draw his attention away from the flames, resolute that should it be someone else to collect their vengeance upon them he might just let them have it.

Not even the faintest hint of surprise registered when out of the corner of his eye he saw a long curtain of dark hair sweep into the room. _Elena. _He did not look at her; he couldn't…

"**Stefan is upstairs, probably asleep."**

Elena said nothing in reply, merely approached the couch and hovered at the very edge watching him. A prickle of annoyance ran like a weak electric current from his head to his toes, knowing that she was waiting for him to make eye contact. Turning his head slowly he looked at her, attempting to keep his expression neutral and free of feeling.

As he did so she sat down beside him, her delicate mouth opening as though she would speak before closing it again with a decisive click of teeth. _What do you want from me? _He didn't say it, the words dying on his usually sharp and clever tongue. It was bad enough that she knew that he felt at all, that she knew behind his every twisted action he was motivated by love.

She reached out to him, finger tips grazing the knife's edge of his cheekbone. Her warm finger tips against his cool skin were surprisingly accepted for a moment—another display of weakness and another strike against the image he had built over the century and some odd years of existence.

"**Elena…don't…" **The tone of his voice was surprisingly desperate in the deafeningly quiet room, the crackle and pop of the logs on the fire unable to help him save face.

With arms outstretched she enclosed him in another damning embrace, a delicate hand alighting on the side of his face like the touch of a butterfly as she pulled him close. It occurred to him that he should fight it, that he had the strength to pull away from her and put her in her rightful place. His eyes were half-lidded, hypnotized by the smell of her skin and the slow and steady pulse of her heart beneath his ear.

Finger tips drifted through his hair, their gentle strokes lulling him further into an unconsciousness he had not experienced in years. With his body relaxed against hers Elena Gilbert was now the one staring into the fire that illuminated the dark room, knowing that they would never be able to talk about this night and that she would leave him in the morning as though she was never there in the first place.

_I'm sorry Damon. So damn sorry._


	2. Gutter Rat Blues

**Title**: Gutter Rat Blues  
**Fandom**: The Vampire Diaries (Drabble)  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Characters**: Damon and Elena  
**Prompt**: Back Alley  
**Word Count**: 1,100  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters.

* * *

The alley is dark and quiet save for the steady _drip, drip, dripping _of blood from a mutilated young woman suspended upside down from a fire escape. Her eyes were open and glassy, horror etched in her pinpoint pupils that had once been fastened to a mysterious, dark-haired man.

He had not removed himself from the scene of the crime just yet; instead he was sitting with his back against the wall that was no doubt festering with bacteria and rat shit. The remaining dregs of blood that still remained were dropping into a growing pool of crimson between his sprawled legs, creeping toward him as though it had a purpose.

He wasn't hungry anymore.

Sitting there in the midst of vermin and fermenting garbage in a town thirty miles north of Mystic Falls Damon Salvatore wondered if it were possible for him to sink any lower. Why had he travelled all of this way for a little bed-time snack instead of picking off yet another Falls burnout? Why had he not drawn out this pathetic creature's death as was his usual style? No crows, no fog, and no flair at all…it simply was not like him.

"**Rain drops keep fallin' on my head…" **Twiddling his thumbs, killing time and giving the old musical number a macabre new meaning he was really evading the true question that was plaguing him now.

_Why did he hesitate before ripping her apart?_ He never lingered on making a decision, never truly cared about the countless victims that had writhed and fought in vain against him. Most of the time he did not even remember their ill-fated faces, or their death masks as he left them in various poses for others of their species to find. All he knew, all he had ever wanted aside from Katherine was the blood and the power that came along with it.

Contempt took years to foster but the loss of his lover and the betrayal of his brother had certainly given him a head start. He was stronger, faster, and smarter than most of his human snacks and undead brethren alike so at least his superiority complex was well-founded. The only person that had truly under-estimated him had been his father but that old wretch of a man was long-dead and no longer an open sore on the world. _And he didn't care one fucking bit. So why now?_

This particular Salvatore brother was obstinate to change—especially when it regarded his own personal growth. After 160 years of wandering the earth how much more could one evolve? What was the point of changing yourself for someone or something when that cause or that individual would only decay and become a part of the earth once more? _What was the fucking point?_

Shadows flitted and settled into the vampire's eyes, staring up at the dead girl as though expecting her to provide him with all the answers he required. Instead she was silent and he could practically hear the beginnings of the decaying process setting in.

Finally realizing that he was sitting in a refuse-laden alleyway he stood up and dusted himself off, his upper lip curling in disgust as he fished around in the silk pocket of his rather expensive leather jacket. Fishing out a pack of cigarettes he popped one into his mouth and took no time in lighting it before carefully slipping out of the alley and making his way back to where his car was parked.

* * *

Back in Mystic Falls he found that he was still restless, still craving _something._ This time it had nothing to do with blood, more like a desire to see a familiar face and pretend for a moment that he had not just murdered someone in cold blood because he was bored and needed to blow off steam.

It seemed as though his feet and head were always subconsciously taking him back to Elena's bedroom, something he would rather not spend too much time thinking about. He had convinced himself that it was simply because he rather enjoyed annoying her and it seemed as though the only vaguely intelligent and thought-provoking conversations he had experienced thus far were with her.

He was sitting by her window, watching the night pass him by on broken legs and wondering if Saint Stefan even had a child's grasp on what he had with this girl. Knowing him he rather doubted it. Startled by the sudden flash of lights turning on he considered disappearing into the night as he had done many times before when the threat of her awakening had been imminent.

"**Damon? What are you doing here?" **Her voice betrayed a rather uncanny alertness for the time of night which drove him to question whether she had figured him out and had been waiting to see if he would show up again.

"**Oh well, I was just in the neighborhood…keeping watch for peeping toms and other perverted souls that roam around in the night." **Flashing a quick grin as she slid open her window he watched as her brow arched and nose wrinkled ever so slightly.

"**So you were watching yourself being creepy outside my window then? I figured you for the vain and stalkerish but this is ridiculous," **Sniffing the air she eyed him curiously, a hand coming up to slightly cover her nose.

"**Damon, don't take this the wrong way but…were you dumpster diving or something? You smell…"**

_Oh shit. _He had forgotten about the stench and cursed inwardly but as always he was able to play it off with a shrug and a smirk, words escaping from his mouth before he could think, **"Actually Miss Gilbert it's called sewer spelunking and it happens to be a very worthwhile pastime."**

A note of laughter escaped from her mouth, the same hand that was being used to fend off the smell now trying to choke down her merriment. Feeling strangely gratified by this in spite of the fact that he smelled like dead rats and moldy food he found himself laughing at the absurdity of his words as well.

Elena shook her head, moving her hand away from her face so that she could cross her arms over her chest, **"Listen, next time you want to sit outside my window you might as well knock on it. But…I think you should go take a shower, you're going to get a loyal following of dogs if you don't."**

A true invitation that he had not even tried to trick her into giving him, now that was something you didn't get every day. Damon could barely disguise his surprise and was already considering the implications of taking her up on this new and rather interesting proposal.

"**G'night Elena."**

He had almost completely forgotten the cause of this particular odor and even though he would not remember the girl's face he would remember the one time he had hesitated and the person he had hesitated for.


	3. Give It Up And Go

**Title**: Give It Up And Go  
**Fandom**: The Vampire Diaries (Drabble)  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Characters**: Damon, Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie  
**Prompt**: Sunrise  
**Word Count**: 1,798  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters.

Weeks had flown by with little incident, there had been a shortage of crises in Mystic Falls for the first time since Damon's return and now he found himself growing a little bored. There had never been a point in the past few months where the Salvatore had literally _nothing_ to do and no one to torment. That is until Stefan announced he would be leaving Mystic Falls on a brief trip in an effort to help an old friend and although Damon was sure that his younger brother had many reservations on leaving him alone with his precious Elena this 'trip' was too dangerous to take her with. Surprisingly enough Elena had not pouted at all, merely shrugged it off and tacked it up to Stefan's enormous hero complex.

Stefan had left him with a dire warning should he try to maim or kill anyone even remotely close to Elena and the girl herself but Damon had barely heard him. In fact, the elder brother had volunteered with rampant enthusiasm to help him pack his things, an act that Stefan just **had **to call attention to by feigning a rather over-dramatic death. Damon knew that his little brother was growing quite suspicious of his sudden burst of goodwill and hyper-active assistance but he said nothing of it merely gave his girl a kiss good-bye and drove away. _Better not wreck the damn thing; I just fixed the alignment and bought a wiring harness for it._

Now completely left to his own devices Damon Salvatore took note that he was acting like a teenager with his parents out of town. With Stefan gone there would be no one to whine at him for having a raucous house party, no one to remind him that most of the people that would be in the house were not really of age and _I-just-don't-think-you-could-control-yourself-Damon-quit-eating-my-classmates-Damon! _

Deciding that he was feeling unusually magnanimous today he check his watched, noting the time with a smirk he decided that today would be the perfect day to break out the ol' motorcycle.

* * *

Elena had quickly discovered that she was absolute crap at multi-tasking. She was trying to make a quick escape through the milling crowds of students while shoving her school books into her backpack and had made the discovery that it was much harder than it looked. And it only got harder when she stumbled over a pothole in the sidewalk and tripped, books flying and the inevitable curse that came with sudden pain forming on her lips.

A strong hand was suddenly grasping her arm and holding her up, the swiftness of the action momentarily discombobulating the mortal girl as she turned her head to see Damon standing beside her with an amused smile on his lips.

"**Very graceful," **A teasing tone entered his voice, eyes sparking with mischief he had not yet plotted but Elena was sure to hear about.

"**Why are you—didn't Stefan—you didn't go?" **Flushing with embarrassment at her poor attempt at an intelligent sentence she pulled her arm from his grasp and began collecting her books in a hurried manner.

"**They were Stefan's friends, not mine. He doesn't really need a baby-sitter so much as electric shock therapy and doesn't worry; he already gave me the standard lecture. Touch Elena and I'll have your guts for garters and your head for a hood ornament, blah, blah, blah."** The standard Stefan imitation always came complete with scrunched brows and what Damon perceived as his 'I'm-so-deep-I'm-an-ocean' look that seemed to be Stefan's way of displaying intensity.

A giggle escaped from Elena's lips before she could choke it back, shaking her head at his poor imitation. **"Well, I guess you have decided you're going to pester me while he's gone then?"**

Stroking his chin he grinned fiendishly, **"You could say that. Remember our last time out Elena? We're going to have another one…tonight."**

**

* * *

**

It had taken some trickery and careful introspection on her part but Elena had agreed to come and at least supervise the night's events at the Salvatore Boarding House. The trickery had involved getting Caroline and Bonnie to come, due to some past unfortunate circumstances Damon was not their favorite person but Elena preferred to have them with her tonight.

Pulling on a pair of jeans and a simple black tank top on she was off to go get her girls, knowing that the three of them needed to have a good night and blow off steam after the past month's events. Bonnie and Caroline were both very stubborn but if they were wheedled enough they would submit to Elena's wishes…or so she hoped. Hearing the sound of heels clicking on the hardwood floor downstairs she knew they had arrived and it was only moments before they flung open her bedroom door and struck obnoxious poses.

"**You guys look great!" **A heart-felt exclamation left her lips as she gave her friends the once-over and found herself throwing a red hoodie on over her tank, it felt good to be with them again. The three musketeers, women on the prowl…well, at least Bonnie was on the prowl, as far as Elena knew Caroline was still with Matt.

"**I know! So…where are we going? You never told us where this party was going to be at,"** Caroline had one fisted hand digging into her hip, staring at her brunette counterpart expectantly.

"**Uh…it's a surprise?"**

"**It better not be a corn field or something, Elena. My shoes will not survive." **Bonnie pirouetted in her black stilettos, full lips painted a daring red.

"**Nope, no corn fields…c'mon guys we gotta go."**

**

* * *

**

Arriving at the Salvatore house it was quite apparent that a party was in full bloom but somehow carefully contained within the property Elena could not help but feel impressed. For someone who delighted in chaos and havoc-wreaking Damon was doing an admirable job of ensuring his guests weren't hanging upside from trees and running naked through the streets…yet. Caroline and Bonnie were both loathe to get out of the car but Damon appeared at the passenger door of Elena's SUV and was decidedly doing his best to charm their pants off, so to speak.

Finally convincing them to remove themselves from the car after ten minutes of polite pestering that had given way into hard-nosed annoyance Damon fell into step beside Elena. **"Can I get you ladies anything? Beer, Ecstasy, inebriated menfolk?"**

Was Elena hearing things or did a slight giggle escape from Caroline? Bonnie was rather nonplussed and had obviously chosen to pretend that Damon was not even there.

"**C'mon Damon, I think I see someone swinging from the chandelier."**

**

* * *

**

An hour and a few beers and shots later Damon sidled up to Elena with a cocky grin on his face, **"Having a good time?"**

The purr in his voice was not lost on her ears, dark eyes sliding like fingers on satin to his face and the smile that dimpled his cheeks. Elena was intoxicated, that she could no longer deny. She had been pouring drinks and laughing as the company that surrounded her spiraled into drunken dancing. Her cheeks were flushed from the body high of doing something she wasn't supposed to and she knew he was watching her carefully.

"**I'm having a great time," **The confession was given with laughter in her voice, eyes bright as the music blared and bodies swayed. **"Just don't tel—"**

"**Oh don't worry, Saint Stefan will never have to know of your transgressions, he's not here, remember?" **Arching a brow and adopting a purely devious expression he held out his hand, **"May I have this dance?"**

Now that had been something she had never expected out of him. Memories of her denying him that dance at the 50's Theme blazed into her head and she wondered if she should deny him out of…what was it? Loyalty or a cold, embarrassing fear?

He could see her quibbling and shook his head, a dark chuckle resonating from his chest that she could still hear above the din. **"C'mon Elena…one dance is not going to kill you. I don't like to brag but I could put your boyfriend to shame."**

_Why not Elena? It could be fun? I mean look at Caroline and Bonnie..._

The two young women that had once been full of reserve were now dancing on a table, bodies shaking and laughter painted on their faces. _Why not?_

"**All right, just don't drop me."**

"**I would never."**

**

* * *

**

The music swirled around them as he escorted her to the make-shift dance floor, a languid grace to his steps as he effortlessly spun her away and brought her back, a daring hand grazing her hip. It surprised Damon that she had even agreed but now as they danced to an old Rolling Stones song he could see the smile on her lips reaching her eyes as a delicate hand curled at his back.

Laughter went on throughout the night and for two hours Damon Salvatore and Elena Gilbert did not stop dancing, bodies swaying together as though they had known one another before. The hoodie that had once adorned her slim frame had been discarded and now a sheen of sweat glowed on her skin beneath the dim lights. _She looked beautiful._

Her long hair was wild and swinging as she shook her hips, dancing close enough to Damon that he could hear the alcohol loosening her tongue, **"I could dance all night with you."**

As she spun into him, back against his chest a twang of surprise and longing shot through him as she lifted her long curtain of dark hair and glanced at him over her shoulder with a mischievous look shining in her eyes.

"**Then don't stop."**

**

* * *

**

Don't ask him how he woke up in his bed in the morning but he did as the first rays of sunlight bled in from his disheveled curtains. A pressure on stomach led him to glance down quickly to find Elena's head resting there, her face turned up to him and eyes closed. Eyes that were usually sharper than a blade's edge grew surprisingly soft as he brushed a lock of hair from her face.

A few more minutes to orient himself revealed that Caroline was snoring softly at the foot of the bed, one arm thrown haphazardly over Bonnie. Choking back a laugh at the absurdity of the situation that greeted his eyes he draped an arm over Elena and watched the sun creep up through the drapes.

That was the morning of Damon's first beautiful sunrise.


	4. Dreams In Which You're Dying

**Title**: Dreams In Which You're Dying  
**Fandom**: The Vampire Diaries  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Characters**: Damon and Elena  
**Prompt**: Late  
**Word Count:** 2,000  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Vampire Diaries or its characters.

* * *

She was dreaming again, tossing and turning in the depths of a nightmare that she couldn't seem to wake herself from.

_She was in Georgia again, frozen in fear against a ladder behind some kind of industrial warehouse. A vampire waited just behind her, eyes black with not hunger but a blinding rage. He is waiting for Damon, using her as bait; at least this is what he tells her as he backs her up onto that ladder. In the back of her head Elena is tired of being afraid, tired of feeling over-powered but she is not stupid enough to try and break from her invisible cell._

_Elena hopes that Damon doesn't come, her brown eyes riveted on the only spot he could appear. She wishes him away, to stay inside Bree's bar until this man that was not a man grew frustrated._

_Out of the corner of her eye she sees Damon appear, had she been blinking she might have missed it. _

"_DAMON NO!" She tries to warn him, catching sight of his body stiffening before the other vampire came veering out of the darkness, knocking him down. Brutalizing him in the blink of an eye she stumbles down off the ladder as he douses the prone form of Damon in gasoline._

"_NO! STOP IT! PLEASE DON'T HURT HIM!" Her voice is louder, her fear so thick in the air that both the vampires can taste it._

_The vampire known as Lee paid little mind to the mortal girl, focusing his energies on exacting his revenge. He revealed his reasons, kept pouring that gasoline…his voice cold but not detached, full of pain and longing for the woman he had loved for so many years. After killing this murderous piece of filth he would follow Lexi into eternity, closing his eyes to the bright glaring eye of the sun._

_This couldn't be what really happened. In the end he had spared Damon…if not for her then Lexi. This couldn't be what happened…_

_She threw herself over Damon, the smell of the accelerant filling her nose. His body felt like marble beneath her terrified form, "J-Just let him go!"_

"_I'm sorry," Lee's insincere voice grated as he lit a match, "I'm all out of humanity today. Just like he was when he killed her."_

_She was flying through the air then, propelled off of Damon. The last thing she remembers before waking up is the sight of him burning._

_

* * *

_

Flying upright in bed with a mute scream lingering in her oddly aching throat she realizes that it was only a dream. That Damon had survived after all and it had been because of her appeals but she still felt the need to check up on him. Just to make sure for fear that when sleep claimed her again she would relive the moments of that nightmare over and over again. _Shouldn't you be having dreams about Stefan? Why are so worried about Damon? Surely he of all…people can take care of himself._

She doesn't even take the time to put on shoes as she pads out of the house, ignorant to the fact that Jeremy is awake and is watching her go from his window.

A sense of foreboding blossoms in Elena Gilbert's chest as she approaches the front door, her hand poised to knock, operating under the assumption that no matter what there had to be one or the other prowling around the house.

* * *

"**What are you doing here, Elena? Isn't it past your bed-time?" **Her heart seems to stop for a moment, a quick wave of fear sending her heart back to crashing against her rib cage like a frightened bird trying to escape. She whirls to see Damon sitting in a wicker chair, a cigarette dangling from his lips and a glass of something (probably alcoholic) in left hand.

"**I-I…" **She stumbles over her words, arms crossing over her chest as if in an effort to ward off some chill—whether it was real or imaginary.

Damon watches her carefully, taking careful note of her attire, **"Where the hell are your shoes?"**

When she fails to answer him a second time he has the glass down quicker than she can blink and is standing so close to her that she can make out each individual eyelash.

"**Is something wrong? What is it?"**

_You are a ridiculous, stupid girl. He is going to think you're crazy; you're just giving him a higher opinion of himself. Leave now before you do something else embarrassing._ She turns away but as always he is two steps ahead of her and she crashes into his chest, inhaling the scent of cigarette smoke and some other musk that was surprisingly pleasant.

Pulling back slightly she feels her chin being tipped upward by one of his fingers, hands that had been so vicious when taking Vicki Donovan's life now so very gentle as he attempted to get the truth out of her.

"**Not so fast, something is wrong. Don't be like every other melodramatic girl out there and pretend that everything is okay. You're smarter than that." **

"**I…" **She glances away from him, suddenly becoming very interested in the shadows behind him. **"I had a bad dream about Georgia."**

_Georgia? What the hell could sh—_

"**Oh?"**He was making an attempt to be nonchalant and guileless but he was failing miserably, at least to his own ears. Still very aware of her close proximity Damon decided to retreat a step so that he could better gauge her emotions which were running surprisingly high if her eyes were any indication.

"**I couldn't convince him to leave you alone…I thought that if I…but it didn't work. You pushed me away and I remember a fire and…"**

As she relayed the events he could not help but allow a momentary burst of astonishment that was echoed in his incredulous tone, **"And you woke up and decided you would just have to come check on poor, defenseless me in the middle of the night…in your pajamas without shoes and any semblance of sanity?"**

Hearing the laughter that threatened to expel itself from his throat she felt her eyes narrowing, throwing her arms out to shove him roughly but he was as immovable as granite. **"It's not funny! It scared the crap out of me…but you know silly Elena and all her SILLY mortal emotions. Damon Salvatore has certainly never had an emotional moment, Damon Salvatore has certainly never car—"**

She was cut off from her shrill tirade suddenly as a calloused finger tip traced her jaw line, Damon's head cocking to one side as if looking at her for the first time. Taking her hand he pressed it to his chest where no heart beat would thump against her small hand and even though she could feel the coolness of his skin beneath the fabric of shirt she felt strangely comforted.

"**I did not get country-fried by an emo vampire, you weren't too late and neither was I. Calm down, you are going to wake the dead."**

"**Oh ha ha very funny…" **She realized that his hand was no longer holding hers to his chest and she removed it quickly, a flush creeping up on her cheeks as a smirk crept up on his.

"**Feel better?" **The question was a simple one, asked directly as his eyes sought her own.

"**Honestly? Not really, I just…now I think that I know...what it's like to be too late."**

As her words hit him with the combined power of a one-two punch he realized that she was referring to when he and Stefan had gone to retrieve Katherine from the church. His first reaction was predictably one of anger but confusion settled in not long afterwards and he found that he had nothing to say for once.

Slowly, as though in a fog he settled an arm around her thin shoulders, felt her slight weight as she leaned into him with exhaustion and remnants of fear still clinging to her eyes. The way she looked up at him then as he ushered her across the threshold of the boarding house made him want her. The glimmers of trust that had once been non-existent were beginning to shine there and the more she looked at him that way the more he found himself liking it. He had never before in his life been a hero or a savior to anyone in any sense of the word but the fact that she appeared to care so deeply for him was striking a chord somewhere in what must have been his heart.

Watching her curl up on the chaise lounge before the fireplace he draped a blanket over her, studying her again before realizing that a very important piece of jewelry was absent from her neck. Before he could stop himself he was already asking:

"**I thought you never took your necklace off…"**

"**I wasn't going to but…" **A yawn interrupted her words as she curled into a ball, **"I didn't think I would need it anymore."**

He had to get out of here, propel himself upstairs into his room to think about this. In all his years he supposed it was never too late to try and trust someone again—the fact that she had enough courage to stand in front of him without the verbena was enough to garner even more respect and curiosity. Damon turned to leave, having detected the slightest deepening in her breathing but as he tried to walk by her hand snaked out and caught his wrist.

"**Will you stay here? Just in case?"**

With a sigh of defeat he sunk down beside her, stretching out but careful not to touch her, **"All right fine, just keep your hands to yourself."**

**

* * *

**

He ended up lying beside her until the sun came up, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest and the way the dying embers cast their shadowy lights along the planes of her skin before his own eyes slid closed. Little did they know that a mere half an hour after Damon had succumbed it was Stefan's turn to be shocked and surprised, the younger brother was suddenly beginning to wonder if indeed history was repeating itself and that maybe…just maybe he was too late to stop its progression.


	5. Everyone Burns

**Title**: Everyone Burns  
**Fandom**: The Vampire Diaries (Drabble)  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Characters**: Damon, Stefan, and Elena  
**Prompt**: Hot  
**Word Count**:  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters.

_We were walking_

_Just the other day_

_It was so hot outside_

_You could fry an egg_

_Remember you were talking_

_I watched as sweat ran down your face_

_Reached up and caught it at your chin_

_Licked my fingertip_

**-- Dave Matthews Band**

**

* * *

**

Virginia was experiencing its first severe heat wave in years, the air had grown pregnant with heat and anyone found out and about had slathered themselves with sun block and accumulated water bottles. On a day like today Damon was glad that he had his ring in his possession, for even though the old boarding house had nothing even vaguely resembling air-conditioning he could muddle through the relative discomfort with ease. Watching Stefan pace for what seemed like the hundredth time today Damon was beginning to feel almost nauseated by the repetition.

"**Stefan, cease and desist. You are going to pace a hole through the floor, why don't you just tell me what you're in a snit over so I can offer some brotherly advice?" **Flashing a smile that had crushed hearts and entranced many a female Damon could only guess at what his little brother was so worried about. _Elena…or maybe he was worried about the fact that yet another vampire had come into their midst. _Stefan had always been easily stressed over the most inconsequential details, never quite picking up on the art of relaxation.

"**Brotherly advice? All of your so-called 'advice' entails disembowelment and psychological torture," **Stefan's words were spoken with a hard undertone, his eyes blazing with irritation at his brother's sickly sweet invitation to aid him in matters of the heart. Whatever had been left of Damon's had decayed in the absence of Katherine, along with any semblance of a conscience.

"**Oh for chrissakes, it's not every day that I feel this ****generous**** Stefan. Speak your piece or go pace somewhere else, you're giving me a head ache." **The heat might have actually snuck into his brain, eyeing the open windows with a prayer for even the slightest breeze frozen on his wicked tongue.

Stefan ceased his restless steps, pausing to stare at his brother as if trying to read into some possible ulterior motive. Pallid forehead creasing, eyes narrowing to mere slits—his emotional upheaval betrayed as he spoke in halting, tormented tones.

"**She…She's been distant lately. I can feel her pulling away from me and I don't know why."**

Damon shook his head, rolling his eyes heavenward as if asking the deity he did not believe to exist for some form of patience. The words that exited his lips were laden with what he perceived to be an astute observation of Stefan and Elena's routine, **"Maybe she got tired of your constant running away, she is not the kind of girl that breaks up and makes up more than twice."**

He paused for a moment, checking to see if his words had sunk into Stefan's thick skull. Of course he wouldn't tell Stefan that it might have something to do with all the time that he and Elena had been spending together. And even then he knew that he might just be giving himself too much credit, those moments spent together had been odd and confusing for the both of them.

"**I do not run away, Damon! I'm trying to keep her safe and do the right thin—" **He was cut off as the older vampire drew close, snapping the waistband of his jeans.

"**Are you sure your name isn't Stefanie? You're acting like a premenstrual high school girl."**

Stefan tried to grab him, teeth set on edge as darkness crept in through the corners of his eyes, but he was merely clutching at air. Damon was now leaning against the doorjamb with a cocksure grin pasted onto his predator's mouth. **"Now, now little brother…why don't we go to the beach? I'm impossibly uncomfortable in this weather; I can practically feel my organs boiling."**

**

* * *

**

An hour and several arguments later Damon was digging his toes into the sand, face upturned to the heat of the sun. The sound of high school girl conversation tickling his ears as he turned to sneak a glance at Elena, sitting cross-legged next to Caroline with a smile lingering on her lips. Stefan was background noise, watching the girl he proclaimed to love with a pained expression that never seemed to be far from the surface. A faint sense of pity touched down somewhere in Damon, knowing that he would never be truly happy, that Stefan was chained away somewhere deep inside himself.

They said that guilt could eat you alive and he saw it now as Stefan conversed with Bonnie, gaze always slipping back to the back of Elena's head.

"**I feel like I'm in a bad soap opera," **The muttered words were lost on most ears but he saw his brother's gaze snap up and needle into him. He could not be bothered anymore by his brother's shortcomings and stood, stretching languidly _(and certainly not for anyone's benefit) _before approaching the water.

* * *

Elena's eyes had followed Damon's progress, feeling guilty for the way her gaze lingered. Glancing over his shoulder he wiggled his eyebrows at her, as though sensing that she had been watching him all along. _Shit. _Flushing with embarrassment she felt darts of annoyance pricking like needles against her finger tips as she turned her head away to find Stefan watching her. _He said this was going to be a friendly outing, not a I'm-going-to-brood-at-you-from-a-distance-day._

With a light huff she pushed herself up off the beach towel, staring at the water and the man wading into it. The water rushed up and lapped playfully at his hips and he did not turn around again to catch her in the act again—he didn't need to know that she was following him into the water but in a less than graceful fashion. A peal of laughter flew haphazardly from her mouth as she flew ahead of him, diving into the water with a loud splash.

A small, crooked smile danced on his lips before he found himself submerged into the cooling water. Icy eyes open beneath the freshwater as he cuts through it like a knife, the muted sound of other bodies following their lead into the water a brief distraction before he saw her.

Moving beneath the water at a sluggish place with a veil of ochre hair trailing close behind her Damon could not help but pause a moment to watch her, in awe as she unknowingly swam into a ray of light. Her eyes were closed and a small smile dimpled her face, he couldn't help himself then. He had to touch her, touch on that happiness because he knew that he might never feel it for himself.

Moving quickly his hand out-stretched his finger tips grazed her arm and she surprised him then when she propelled herself sideways, brown eyes opening to catch him in the act. The most surprising thing yet was that she was not moving toward the surface kicking and screaming—she was smiling at him, long legs dancing in the water. Shrugging his shoulders as she stuck out her tongue she launched herself up toward the surface with Damon following in a quick and graceful pursuit.

"**I didn't think you were part fish," **Floating on his back he heard Caroline and Bonnie swimming closer, felt Elena's close proximity and Stefan sitting at the water's edge watching.

"**I used to swim all the time before my parents…" **She trailed off and he let it drop, content to drift and escape the damnable hot weather.

She was swimming away from him then, heading back toward the shore and her friends who jabbered away about hair and makeup and high school musicals. As she stood up in the water to wring her hair out she looked at him again and smiled faintly.

And suddenly the water was not cool enough. He could feel it starting again, knew that everyone knew what it was like to burn.


	6. The Man Who Sold The World

**Title**: The Man Who Sold The World  
**Fandom**: The Vampire Diaries (Drabble)  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Characters**: Damon and Elena  
**Prompt**: Son  
**Word Count**:  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters.

**Notes: **Wow, thanks for all the positive feedback! I'm glad people are enjoying it, in this instance I am writing for my health. Writing about Damon (and Elena) is almost like therapy. Oh! And on another note some steamy Damon/Elena action will be coming up here!

_We passed upon the stair_  
_We spoke of was and when_  
_Although I wasn't there_  
_He said I was his friend_  
_Which came as a surprise_  
_I spoke into his eyes_  
_I thought you died alone_  
_A long, long time ago_

_Oh no, not me_  
_We never lost control_  
_You're face to face_  
_With The Man Who Sold The World_

-- **Nirvana**

* * *

Late night, a blanket settled over the world. Even though he could walk in the daylight Damon preferred the darkness, nothing stereotypical about that right? It was easier to conceal things in shadow; emotions and misdeeds were all hidden under the gloomy cast of moonlight. Having once lived in crowded cities crawling with meat bags and vampires alike Mystic Falls was far more subdued in comparison to New York and Los Angeles…just to name a few. Here he was noticed and almost revered (but of course in secret and probably only by the sheriff) and any egotistical male worth his salt could appreciate being a big fish in a small pond.

Sitting on the top step of the porch with a cup of coffee laced with blood and Kahlúa warming his icy hands he doesn't really know what to do with himself now that he's trying to 'behave.' The word is not one that generally enters into his vocabulary when describing himself or his behavior in any fashion. Damon Salvatore does not _behave_, it is not in his nature to follow rules (aside from his own) and even when he was a good boy it had not worked out to his advantage.

Now was a prime example—Elena and Stefan were inside and from what it sounded like (even though he tried his best not to listen this time) they were probably having an 'intimate' moment as Stefan liked to call it. A sharp snort exploded from his nostrils as he fished another cigarette from the pack sitting next to him, wondering if perhaps he should take a sabbatical. A week or two away from this town and from _them _could work miracles for his current temperament which had been degrading drastically over the past couple of days.

Eventually the sounds of _lurrrve _ceased and Damon felt himself breathing a sigh of relief. Vexed with himself he still did not quite understand why in the hell he was feeling anything but animosity towards the little mortal girl. She had helped his brother betray him yet again, tried to stop him from getting to what he wanted, to what would have eased this constant **pain **burning in his chest.

He should have despised her with every fiber of his being.

* * *

The sound of the door clicking shut behind him drew his attention and he could feel Elena standing behind him with the scent of his brother still clinging to her skin.

"**Oh hey...I uh, I was just…"**

Her stuttering words scored his nerves, the serrated edge returning to his voice, **"Just coming up for air? Getting another whiff of oxygen before diving back into bed with Stefan?" **

He finally turned, just to see the indignation coloring her face as she settled her arms in front of chest and glared at him, **"Why do you have to be that way all the time? Is it because you're jealous? Or is it because you aren't getting any?" **

The defiant tilt of her chin, the flash in her dark eyes, it was like a hissing kitten in some ways; cute. Her barbed wire words had little effect although he feigned a wounded look before turning away again to light his cigarette, unnecessary oxygen and smoke being sucked down into dead lungs. _Why oh why isn't she going away?_

"**That witty repartee is usually your cue to leave."**

"**Well, I guess I just want to stick around and torment you…look, you rubbed off on me!" **Her reply was dripping with sarcasm as she took a seat to his right, bare legs catching the gleam of the moonlight. **"He's sleeping now and I…can't."**

"**Must not be doing it right then," **His brows once more wiggling, a lewd smile stretching over his gaunt face, deriving a rather twisted pleasure at poking fun of his brother's sexual prowess.

The jab to his ribs barely drew his attention but he glanced at her nonetheless, her other hand exposing a very old picture. The face on it was one he knew well, one that he could not help but curl his lip in disgust upon seeing. _Father._

"**I found that, I was going to ask Stefan but I figured…"**

"**He wouldn't tell you? Pull his strong and silent routine? He might have, that is his usual modus operandi. That, my dear, is our father. Giuseppe Salvatore." **However hard he tried he could not keep the contempt from entering his voice, bright eyes darkening under the pall of a long-held grudge.

Elena had not missed the tone or the way Damon's face constricted at the sight of the picture, her brow furrowing in an attempt to understand what could cause such a reaction. Stefan had rarely spoken of his father and so she wasn't quite sure what the entire story was, of their family and where they came from. Out of anyone Damon did seem the person to ask; through all of his twisted ways and backwards turns of phrase he had never blatantly lied or even attempted to hide anything from her. Maybe she would ask; maybe talking about it would lance the wound that seemed to have begun to fester again. A pang of guilt for upsetting a murderer? Maybe she felt it.

"**You didn't get along with him?" **The question was asked in a cautious tone, knowing how upset he might get, even if he didn't happen to show it.

"**You could say that, I suppose it sounds nicer. In all honesty I think I was my father's greatest disappointment. Once upon a time I actually gave a damn but…Stefan was more fitting for the role of the golden child than me. I was more of a free thinker, impulsive and full of youthful ideals." **Tapping ash off his cigarette with a blunted finger, bringing the slowly cooling cup to his lips and finishing the remaining dregs he shrugged his shoulders, trying to convey that he didn't care. _Not at all._

"**What is so wrong about that? I just can't believe your father would think of you as a disappointment, Damon. Most parents have blind spots where their children are concerned," **Wrinkling her nose slightly as the smell of cigarette smoke tickled her nostrils; it was a complete mystery why he insisted on reveling in such bad habits—as if the act itself somehow made him more himself than he was already.

"**Believe it. Having a stubborn deserter for a son does things to a father, or at least it did things to hi—"**

"**Deserter? What did you desert?" **Her brow quirked in interest, she had never really had an entire back-story on Damon to begin with, just the bare bones of their century and a half old feud.

"**The Confederate Army, my duties to my southern compatriots, my responsibilities…you name it. I just could not do it anymore; I only fight for causes I believe in."**

"**And yet you keep claiming you don't believe in anything," **Her tone betrayed a slight crossness on her part, eyeing him with disbelief flickering in her dark eyes.

"**Exactly. Because I don't, not anymore."**

Rolling her eyes she glanced away from the man sitting next to her, more questions lingering on the tip of her tongue. Nudging him with her shoulder she peered at him curiously, **"Closet abolitionist? I would never have guessed that about you."**

"**Not so much an abolitionist as a pacifist," **Seeing the shock painted on her face he smiled grimly, shoulders hunching once again in a shrug, **"I was not always like I am now, you know. I didn't leap from the womb with plans to maim, kill and fight over a woman with my little brother. I might not have even been here if my mother had lived."**

"**So you were closer to her than your father then? What was she like?" **

"**She died when I was young, Stefan was only a year old at the time but she was…beautiful. She loved music, loved to dance—she even had the rare ability to warm my father's cold heart," **A wistful smile had replaced the grimace, sure it had not been all sunshine and butterflies but his mother was inherently good. The epitome of all that was right in the world and when she died he was robbed of that goodness, thrown aside by a man who refused to feel anything for anyone but himself.** "When she died my father retreated from Stefan and myself, angry that he had been robbed of his prize."**

Elena said nothing, her brows knit together as she watched him start slightly, as if a brief jolt of electricity had passed through his body. She could see that he had just realized he thought he had just described himself in that respect and although a part of her told her to shut up she jumped in quickly, trying to dissuade him from that particular road.

"**You're nothing like him. He didn't fight for you and Stefan on that day you were both killed did he? He never told you he loved you or let on that he had feelings at all? You're not like that. Granted you are a little hard to figure out," **She paused, licking her dry lips, **"But if people took the time to watch you carefully they'd see it, there is a human soul hidden under there."**

How could she know that? How could she pretend to know him so well when he knew next to nothing about himself? Taking one last puff of his cigarette he flicked it to the ground, expelling one last plume of smoke as he crushed the cigarette beneath his shoe.

"**For someone who pretends she wants nothing to do with me you seem to dedicate a good amount of your time trying to figure me out," **Flicking the picture back onto Elena's lap he turned and looked at her directly, **"Why do you bother with me?"**

_Yeah, why do I bother with you? _**"Because, I see something in you, something that nobody else takes the time to. You might have sold the world to be with Katherine and you might have tried to kill my friends and maybe just maybe you forced some of your blood down my throat but I get it." **She was staring at him directly, unflinchingly with the hope that she would get her message across the 100 mile gap that seemed to loom between Damon and the rest of the world.

"**I have given away some things too, things that I will never be able to get back. Relationships that will never mend and sometimes I think I cling harder to the ones I have because I'm afraid of being all alone. Love is destructive and consuming if you let it be that way, and that's not what I want for myself…or you." **She looked away from him now, having said her piece and prepared to leave it at that. He may have been somebody's son at one point, somebody's lover, and somebody's soldier but right now he was himself and nobody else's. Not anymore. _He could be your friend, you know._

"**Huh, nice speech…you almost got to me," **He bent closer, a mischievous whisper in her ear, **"almost."**

Standing up he looked down at her, a stray smirk scampering over his face, **"Tell anyone we had this conversation and I'll kill you."**

A sharp report of laughter burst from Elena's lips at the absurdity of the statement, emboldened she stood up as well, invading his personal space with a smirk and an arched brow to match his smug expression, **"You and your empty threats…"**


	7. Hello Darkness My Old Friend

**Title**: Hello Darkness My Old Friend  
**Fandom**: The Vampire Diaries (Drabble)  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Characters**: Damon and Elena  
**Prompt**: Friend  
**Word Count**: 1800  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters.

* * *

He is standing on a precipice in this dream, staring down into the stygian eye of the abyss—smiling as it stares back at him. Damon throws out his arms, ready to fall or fly as a starless sky stretches to touch infinity above his head and the craven that follows him like a loyal dog caws as if to draw him back from the edge. The feathered familiar does not seem to have much hold over him, a figure clad in shadows about to depart back into the darkness from which he had come in the first place.

Without a second thought he swan dives into that swirling mouth, flying through a night so dark his vision ceased to function. The smell of sulfur and a metallic twang of ash swirl around his head and he wonders if all his memories will possess some other body, if he is truly meant to suffer repetitively for his misdeeds. In that darkest of flights a dim light begins to grow in Damon's ash cloud and he sees the outline of another body falling with his and without thinking he reaches out.

Just as the face turns toward him he awakens, bolt upright in bed with sheets in tangled knots around his legs and pillows ripped to shreds. The night is hot, sticky, and sweet as the smell of wildflowers and young blood float in from the opened window to tempt him; to make him run like a child underneath the cold stars like he used to when he was younger. A little wood sprite caked in mud and sticks like some kind of earthen Gollum with berry-stained teeth and snarls in his hair; that was his childhood and begrudgingly he returns to his slumber. Upon awakening a few hours later he could no longer bother with attempting to sleep, slithering from his sheets and padding to his door in sure-footed grace.

Daylight blazes away outside, a garish beam temporarily blinds him as he meets it with a groan and ambles downstairs the warmth that settles in the usually drafty house prickling at his bare skin. Pausing on the bottom step he hears the softest of noises, a breathy sigh coming from the living room and suddenly her scent hits him. _Elena. _Blue eyes shine as though planning some kind of mischief that only he would find amusing, slipping into the room sleek and silent as a cat his gaze alights on her prone form and he wonders what she's doing sleeping here…

Stefan had been gone for a few days, off taking care of mysterious Stefan Salvatore crap that probably involved a lot of soul searching and practicing his sad scowls. Shaking out of this reverie he strolls closer, inspecting the sleeping girl, the way her brown locks fan out and drape like a velvet banner on the chaise and the way her lips move slightly as though she's having a conversation with someone in her sleep. His eyes trace her lips, a place where his finger tips had once been so long ago and suddenly he feels very claustrophobic—the walls becoming suffocating barriers that are slowly closing in on him and he couldn't force himself to back away. He had always been intrigued, the kind of man that ignored the snake in the grass and reached in for that delicious apple regardless of the consequences.

He leaned in and the smell of summer and life rose off her skin, a soft expanse of warmth that his finger tips halted mere centimeters from touching. Up close he could see the shadows that were beginning to grow under her eyes as though the darkness was trying to pull her under with the rest of them. He was perched on the edge of the chaise as he bent lower and held his breath, the kisses in the hollows of her eyes were feather light and when her eyes did not flicker open with surprise and wrath, when her breath continued its calm rhythmic rise and fall he was lulled into a false sense of security.

His lips hovered above hers, blue eyes half-lidded and he was about to commit to it, about to follow through when he remembered a conversation they had just the other day.

* * *

_She had been sitting on the counter, hunched over a cup of something that looked like coffee and a sour expression denting in her pretty lips. Once again she was here in his home and Stefan was nowhere to be seen—she must have been bored and desperate if she was seeking out his company in particular._

"_Did you get grounds in the coffeemaker again? You do know the filter goes in first and then the grounds…? I think we're going to have to make a new rule: Elena is not allowed to mess with the Folgers."_

_She snorts at him, making a face over the rim of her cup as a fine-boned hand ascends to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Such an indelicate sound coming from her draws a soft chuckle from him as he draws closer to her; making it his business to invade her personal space. An act that she no doubt picks up on because she slides gracefully from the counter top and wraps an arm across her midriff, pulling a face as she brushes past him in a current of electric sparks._

"_No, I'm just…still recovering from our party and I really don't want to be seen. I feel like I've been run over…several times."_

"_You certainly don't look like it, well I take that back. If you rearranged your face you would look a bit like the Crypt Keeper right now."_

_She pulls a more grotesque face after setting down her cup, running a hand through her hair, "You are such a liar, my hair is a mess and I don't have any make up on…"_

"'_And I'm soooo not fishing for compliments right now,'" Damon mimicked her, hand vamping and shrill feminine voice jarring her ears and his own. He could have sworn that for a second she was considering giving him a punch but she held back and smiled in a way that reminded him of one he had added to his repertoire not too long ago._

"_You've almost got it but the bloodlust just isn't there," A finger curling under his chin as he pretended to inspect her, a smirk forming._

_Elena was quiet a moment, her dark eyes downcast and staring at the floor before glancing up again with a smile that was almost scarier than any death mask Damon had ever seen. Suspicion sparked and exploded in his skylight eyes as his dark brows knit together, head cocking to one side, "What's that face about? I don't like it."_

"_It is almost…nice here."_

"_What in the hell d'you..."_

"_Well, you being certifiably insane aside these past couple of days have been surprisingly fun. You haven't tried to maim or murder any of my friends and hell has not broken loose, you actually got Bonnie and Caroline to have a good time which is…amazing in the face of everything that has happened."_

_A brow quirked, not quite sure where she was going with this little conversation and clearly his confusion was written across his face because she seemed to pick up on it and she smiled again, "It's almost like we're friends."_

_Damon visibly blanched at the term, rolling his eyes heavenward, "Don't go soft on me now, Gilbert. We have parts to play—I'm the undeniably sexy troubled diabolical genius and you are the goody-two-shoes girlfriend that thinks I'm groooossss and meannnn."_

_Laughing softly Elena puts her cup in the sink, "All right Damon, I take it back. You're a horrible nasty creature of the night."_

_

* * *

_

Friendship, what the hell did he care about friendship? He had never been in possession of such a person in years; in a century to be more specific. _The sick part, _he thought as his hand curled into a fist beside Elena's head, _was that he did care. Why did he care at all? _Frustration and desire were two battling forces and he wondered what the consequences would be, an action that was completely unlike him. Damon Salvatore did not consider consequences, what could they be if he was an immortal?

"**Damon?"**

He freezes, had he been a human the breath would have been knocked from his lungs. Beginning to withdraw he was stopped by a delicate hand, he was not looking her in the eye and he could not bear to. A good old-fashioned slap was expected upon her realization that he was in her room, watching her sleep with less-than-honorable intent.

Her voice is thick with sleep, eyes half-lidded and dark as they peer at him through a fringe of chocolate lashes, **"Wh-what are you…why..?"**

Blanching he tries to withdraw but her hand remains, finger tips tracing his knuckles and beckoning him closer. A feeling all too painfully familiar to the vampire began to swell in his chest as she shifted herself closer to him, stretching herself out.

"**Oh I was just coming to check on you—I have no idea why you're out here instead of sleeping in…" **He didn't say it, the very thought of her in Stefan's bed was both disgusting and somehow bringing out the envy in him.

"**Was waiting for you to wake up," **Her voice is muffled and soft and he finds himself running the back of his fingers along the soft plane of her cheek, watching her with something akin to affection flickering in the darker corners of his eyes.

"**Don't worry about it," **Pulling a blanket from the couch adjacent to the chaise he covered her and smiled ever so slightly, **"Go back to sleep, I promise I won't draw anything on your face."**

He gently disengages her hand from his and slowly rises from his crouched position when her voice calls him back to her, **"Why didn't you do it?"**

He stops and does not speak, frozen in place except for his eyes that drift toward her own which now seem so awake as they peer at him and pin him in place. Muscles tensing he wondered if maybe he should just walk away from this, that she would forget and never ask him again because he knows exactly what she's talking about and doesn't want to answer her.

"**You know why, Elena."**

_Stefan._

"**I wish you would have," **Nothing but a murmur as Damon forces himself to walk away from her.


	8. Bound To The Floor

**Title**: Bound To The Floor  
**Fandom**: The Vampire Diaries (Drabble)  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Characters**: Damon and Elena  
**Prompt**: Floor  
**Word Count**: 1,000  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters.

* * *

"**I'M SICK OF THIS!" **

Elena storms into the kitchen, fists clenched and thin shoulders ascending toward her ears in the worst example of posturing Damon Salvatore has ever seen as he paces after her and he has seen Elena angry at him many times before…but not quite like this. She is the one acting as though he has betrayed her, as though he is the lover that walked out on her for the umpteenth time.

He does not understand entirely but he understands enough and that is what angers him. She is taking out her misguided, misdirected, malicious feelings out on _him _and for once Damon truly feels like he is not at fault.

"**Elena…"**

He ducks as a plate whizzes by his head and shatters against the wall, ceramic shards of blue creating an impossible puzzle on the floor as they settle. His blue eyes widen slightly, an impossible Cheshire grin appearing although he knows that it would only serve to egg her on further. **"I think dear Auntie is going to be a little upset; I do believe those have been discontinued from the IKEA Catalogue."**

She is incensed, ochre eyes burning bright, surpassing even the lights that illuminated the kitchen as she advanced on him with her arms akimbo as though she were truly foolish enough to try and get into a fist fight with him of all people. Damon stood his ground as she advanced, arms hanging loosely at his sides as though resigned to the fact that he would not break her in half like a tooth pick as he had so often fantasized about earlier in this strange relationship of theirs. So suffice it to say he was not surprised when the first blow glanced off his chest like a pebble being thrown at a whale.

Elena was blaming herself for a mistake little Snivelin' Stefan had made, drinking her blood after years of deprivation. _He could have killed her, he could have done some serious damage…and now he was endangering everyone._

"**DON'T! DON'T YOU DARE PRETEND TO BE THE RATIONAL VOICE OF REASON! ALL OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT!"**

She flails at him again but his hand snakes out to catch her wrist in a vise grip, holding her securely as she struggles ineffectively against him. He seizes this moment to regain control of the situation as he backs her quickly into a wall, not expecting her one free hand to twist sharply and slap him in the face. His head turns with it, just a fraction of an inch and when his eyes meet hers again he cannot hide the infusion of red that began to strangle the white.

"**My fault?" **His voice was dangerously low, face inches from her and wearing a mask of simmering rage, **"You giving **_**Stefanie**_** something to nibble on is somehow my fault?"**

"**YES! IT'S YOUR FAULT! IF YOU HADN'T COME BACK HERE…IF YOU HADN'T…" **She was grasping for words to voice her frustrations but none were coming, she was still angry perhaps more at herself than anyone else. Elena needed a scapegoat so that she would not have to come to terms with what was going on around her and everybody's favorite had always been Damon Salvatore.

"**If I hadn't what?" **She didn't answer him, she looked away and had stopped struggling, a ragdoll in his grasp. **"IF I HADN'T WHAT?"**

She cringed back from the roar that tore itself from his throat, trying to turn in his grasp, **"Just let go of me Damon, just go away…" **

The whisper that traced her lips lapped at Damon's face, diffusing him enough that his grip on her slackened but he did not release her entirely, **"Are you sure? More ceramics might be harmed in the process and then what will you eat off of? My abs?"**

She still isn't looking at him, his attempt at making a funny goes unnoticed and any lesser creature might feel a little miffed about that but not Damon. He always has to go for the throat in most matters and if he cannot make her crack a smile he might as well rile her up all over again—even if she had gotten the jump on him just that one time he could afford a little more yelling and screaming. It was better than whatever this was that she was doing now which felt like a whole truck load of avoidance after unloading her emotional baggage on him.

"**If you're done with your tirade I want an apology then."**

He had practically tossed her arm away from him, as though her skin had the power to scald through layers of clothing. Damon watched as her expression transitioned from blank to almost wrathful again—the indignant hue of her cheeks burning underneath his watchful gaze. She was gearing up and slowly picking up steam again and a part of him was itching for it. To hear those hateful words drip off her tongue like acid, just to reaffirm his every suspicion (and worst fear.)

"**You…want…an apology? Are you joking?" **Her lip curled slightly.

"**Not unless you're joking about your little angsty tirade right there, whining about how unfair the world is when you really have no idea. You would have to actually live to know, Elena. I've been dead for a century, sure, and even I think I might have lived more than you—sad isn't it?" **He had not intended to say all of that and yet it had come spilling from his mouth like a glass of water on linoleum. She stared at him, tears welling in her eyes and he knew that maybe it had not been time for her to hear words that harsh. He hated the feeling of guilt that was crawling up his spine and immediately wanted to say something to placate her as she slipped away from him, a gentle breeze created as she went.

_You are an idiot—a world class fool. _He found himself joining her there on the floor as though he actually cared and what's worse is that he knew he did.

"**Maybe I shouldn't have said that."**

She looks at him through a veil of hair and is incredulous that something even _resembling _an apology had left the vampire's mouth. Her lips trembled no matter how hard she pressed them together, bone tired of the constant struggle and the constant battle against death. **"How can anyone deal with this? It's too much—it's like I'm running up a hill during a mudslide. Every time I gain some ground I get pushed back and under again."**

Sighing Damon suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, **"You make everything sound like such a chore. Maybe you should stop trying to fight against the current and swim with it, you might end up where you wanted to be all along."**

Elena's eyes hone in on his and for once this gaze is unwavering, **"Are you where you wanted to be?"**

Damon sits back on his haunches to think about that one, index finger tapping the side of his cheek, **"Well, there were a few unpredictable detours and some setbacks but…I think I am where I'm meant t—"**

He was cut off suddenly by a sensation that he had only tried to coerce, her lips on his. It was a 'testing' kiss, a 'maybe' kiss, a 'sad' kiss that poured her tears into his mouth, so many emotions that he almost choked. **"Elena I don't…" **She kissed him again; frantic to feel something aside from this consuming rage, this blanket of guilt as Damon returned the kiss something broke itself on the stones of their rocky relationship. Something soft and strong burned between them as his lips moved over hers, the whisper of her breath against his cheek as her head moved, arms wrapping around him.

He was bound to the floor, suffocated by a sinking feeling that things were about to change again. Everything that had started to become so easy for him was about to be made harder by this girl child with her sad eyes and hero guilt complex, his brother would never understand or forgive if he ever found out.

"**Just hold me here for a little while." **_Please don't say anything; please don't ask me why I just did that. I'm not sure I'll be able to tell you. Let the floor have the secret and just tell me I'm going to be okay._

_

* * *

_**A/N:** I'm not quite sure what to think about this one. Guh._  
_


	9. Cheater, Cheater

**Title**: Cheater, Cheater  
**Fandom**: The Vampire Diaries  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Characters**: Damon and Elena  
**Prompt**: Cheat

**Word Count**: 1,900

**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. Anddd I'm not sure if I like this one-shot very much.

* * *

Elena peers at the outside world through her window, a pen poised to write above the paper of her diary. This little bound book was one place that held every single one of her secrets, the one place where she could get it out and relieve the pressure that seemed only to gather on her chest. Secrets had gathered around her; secrets that she could not tell her own family or anyone else for that matter. So Alaric was in on it now, it didn't help the guilt that welled in her chest every time she saw her aunt or the confusion and horror that painted her face every time a tragedy struck in Mystic Falls. A part of her wished that she had asked Damon to erase her memories that night, live in blissful ignorance to the intrigue that surrounded her past and the violence that had blown into her live right as the Salvatore brothers had returned.

Shaking her head she turned back to the blank page that sprawled before her, waiting to be filled with her latest secret. One that could threaten everything if it crawled its way out into the bright, revealing light of day, create more problems for everyone than what was necessary. _She kissed him and he wasn't hers…and she wasn't his but for that moment. _Damon Salvatore did not taste like Stefan, did not smell like him or act like him in any way. He reminded her of a wolf, all grace and danger with sharp teeth and knowing eyes that could pin anyone in their place. A moment of weakness was all it had amounted to, right? Elena had been grieving over another spat with Stefan, another gut-wrenching loss and she wanted to forget and Damon was the only one she knew of that could do that for her.

But it was all a mistake, a sick joke that confused hearts play on their masters because somewhere inside of her she had _felt _something and it had **scared** her. After that kiss she had run away like a frightened animal, leaving Damon standing very still and quiet behind her. He didn't chase her like she had expected him to and maybe that was because he knew that if he did like he had chased Katherine he might have lost her forever.

"**Shit…" **Resting her head against the surface of her desk Elena Gilbert knew that she was doomed; whether or not she did the right thing was unimportant. All of it would break one day regardless and possibly destroy everything and everyone around her with its entrance into the world.

* * *

He is restless and pacing, brow furrowed in concentration as the cogs and gears of intrigue that wire his brain together whir and hiss. Damon could not deny that the kiss was like a cattle prod, jolting him out of whatever coma he had been living in, granted he had been rooted to the spot when she ran away from him. It's rather frustrating always being the person people leave, even when he was human it had always appeared to be that way and nothing had changed thus far. His usual haunts were now places he made sure to carefully avoid in case he saw her because as time wore on he was getting…angry and perhaps there was a little hurt in there.

The cynic in him told him that this was never bound to become anything because she would not let it. Elena was more concerned about protecting everyone then what was best for her. _And you're it? Jesus Christ what is going on with me? _A growl of impatience edged itself out of his mouth as he stared out at the world going on without him. The sun was gradually dragging itself higher and higher into the sky and still she had not come to explain what the hell had happened and it surprised him somewhat. She was always so quick to do the right thing or at least spare Stefan's _delicate _feelings. He could be telling his dear little brother all about the incident and she would be none the wiser. _Why hasn't she come yet, god damn it? _

And then it hit him; he was letting it happen again after he swore that he wouldn't. Damon Salvatore was wriggling on the end of a beautifully cruel hook once more and it was driving him mad waiting for absolution. Why wait for the inevitable let down, the lengthy excuses that were sure to come as she slunk off regretful and contrite to Stefan who would probably be out for his blood?

_SMASH!_

He watched the vase splinter into thousands of pieces as it hit the wall and he turned away from it with a disgusted grumble before stalking away, leaving it on the floor for someone to find later. He had somewhere to go and a girl to question.

* * *

As the hours rolled by Elena was alone in the kitchen, staring at the refrigerator as she considered making herself something to eat before she retreated to her bedroom. Pull the covers up over her head to guard against the world outside her protective cocoon, try to put out the fire that had been started in her heart. She wanted her skin to forget the way it felt to be touched by _his _fingers and _his _lips felt; she bore the invisible brand of Damon Salvatore and the worst part of it all was that she was not sure she wanted it to fade.

Her common sense told her that nothing could come of it, that this was not a road that she wanted to walk down. _God, I don't want to be like Katherine. _That terrible thought prevailed above everything else, the dark cloud that hung over her head every single day since she had found out about her terrible look-a-like. Knowing that your every move, every act is quietly being compared to those made by a sociopathic black widow could drive someone mad and as much as she knew that some of the lengths Katherine had gone to were those she could never find herself reaching it was still frightening. She is terrified that she will be responsible for something horrible happening to the men that had now become fixtures in her everyday life.

Making dinner: that was something that temporarily carried her away from herself as she measured and cut and preheated her problems away, after all most women are experts at avoidance when they want to be. Standing in front of the stove her skin prickles and she simply _knows. _She did not want to turn around to face him, to be confronted and be laid bare before a man that was little more than a monster (or at least that was what she was trying to convince herself of.)

"**What are you doing here, Damon?" **Her voice struggles to even itself out but he must have heard the quavering undertones. If she turned to look at him fully he would see it all in her eyes and then he might never leave.

* * *

He doesn't know how she does it, the only person that ever seemed cognizant of his presence when he tried his best to be as inconspicuous as possible. _And the best part is she won't turn the hell around and look at me! _No matter how badly he wants to grab her and twist her to face him he wills himself not to do it, she has to face him and whatever lies between them.

"**I just wanted to talk to you, that's all," **He also tries to quash the emotions in his voice but he knows that it's probably not working out to his advantage at all.

Silence.

"**I'm not going away until you talk to me, Elena." **

This statement of fact makes her turn, frustration blazing in her eyes and settled into the slight trenches her furrowed brow created as she regarded him with arms crossed over her middle as though warding off some kind of attack. His lips twist into a triumphant smirk and he can see that this only serves to incense her further and if her blood boils enough he will get what he is looking for: a reaction, an answer.

Her tongue darts out and nervously wets her lips and he feels the wing beats of desire quicken in his rib cage but he suppresses any and all urges. He needs to hear her talk her way through this; he wants to know how she is going to rationalize that desperate, soul-touching kiss. _Write me off, I dare you. _

"**Fine, what do you want to talk about?" **The heavy sigh in her voice is evident as she signals her defeat but maddeningly enough she still stubbornly dances around the elephant in the room. _Simply amazing._

"**You are one of ****the**** most obtuse women I have ever come across, you know that don't you?" **His words are edged with bitter ice, impatience a flash bang grenade. Drawing closer, no, drawn closer to her by some unnamable force he sees her shiver and back into the stove as though expecting to be the victim of his onslaught. Guilt wraps its spidery hands around the mutilated remains of a heart done wrong so many times before but it is no longer in his nature to wilt in the presence of adversity.

"**The kiss, Elena, tell me what that was or what it wasn't. Tell me why you did it, I want you to try and explain this one to me because I feel like I missed a memo or something." **His voice is surprisingly soft, his words subdued by the chains of fear and…pleading? Damon rarely implored anyone for anything and he was doing it now—nearly reduced to begging for the answer that would only serve to break him.

_So break me._

"**I-I…" **She stumbles over her words, eyes pinned at some spot behind his head. _Why oh why does everything always have to be so fucking difficult? _**"I was feeling…vulnerable. You were there and I-I made a mistake, a stupid mistake." **

A peal of laughter breaks from his lips and it sounds exquisitely desperate and he wonders if she can hear it and if she cares at all. His lips twist and untwist as though they can't decide how to settle, he does not know how to compose himself and he turns to leave. _Congratulations, you have officially achieved a pathetic status worthy of Stefan. _Halfway to the door he hears a small cry come from the kitchen and he stares at his hand, the hand that is white-knuckling the door handle. _Just go, Damon._

"**I can't." **

He turns, even though everything he's learned over the years tells him there is no chance in hell. He turns, even though he knows that this will only torture him. He turns, because he can't shut his emotions off anymore…the button he had been stomped on for so long was now one that he couldn't even bring himself to look at anymore.

She is on the floor, curled in a ball like a child and she's mumbling something over and over again, **"I don't do this, I don't do this."**

He pulls her dinner out of the oven, every action so matter-of-fact as he shuts it off and places the lasagna on the counter, vaguely aware of the welts that had been raised on his skin from handling the pan with bare hands. Slipping down to the floor he curls himself around her like the lovelorn idiot he was, **"It was just a kiss."**

She turns her body slowly until she is facing him, nose red and eyes already puffing up, **"I don't want to be like her, Damon. I don't want to do this to both of you or me." **It is as if she knows that saying those words had been nearly impossible for him to say but she appreciates the gesture.

"**I won't tell if you don't tell." **

He pulls her off the floor, sets her down at the table and they both pretend that it is a normal occasion, eating lasagna and salad. They pretend for each other out of necessity, out of a fledgling affection and out of love for Stefan.

And that's the moment that she realized it, paused with the fork near her mouth.


	10. It Only Hurts When I Smile

**Title**: It Only Hurts When I Smile  
**Fandom**: The Vampire Diaries  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Characters**: Damon, Elena, Stefan, and Jeremy  
**Prompt**: Think  
**Word Count**: 1,000  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters.

* * *

Someone is screaming her name, a strangled keening that she can no longer ignore. Elena Gilbert opens her eyes, finding bright sunlight cast in her face and a sense of confinement twisting around her arms and legs. _What…_ Her vision is still blurry, her head aching as though at some point it had met with cement and had a vigorous disagreement but from what she can gather about the smells and the dirt churning underneath her bare feet she is outside. _Why am I outside?_

"**Elena! Elena wake up! Please wake up!" **

That voice is so familiar, it tugs and pulls her attention to her right and the face of her brother swims up at her. **"Jeremy?" **

And then a completely foreign creature blocks her view of her younger brother, a countenance that is altogether foreign except for a few traits that she had become accustomed to seeing: fangs and blood red eyes.

_Another vampire that can go out in sunlight? _

"**Hello, Elena," **the voice has an insidious purr to it—like the cat that got the canary, **"I was wondering when you would join us."**

**

* * *

**

Blue eyes flicker open, confusion drifting into the disoriented vampire's consciousness as he discovers that he cannot move. When you wake up into a nightmare your first instinct is that of flight but being that he was wrapped in chains soaked with vervain and hanging upside down escaping seemed to be a nearly impossible option. A serpentine hiss burns from his throat, the dull thud of pain where his bonds touch the bared skin of his chest seems to spark a fire as he swims into the land of the living. Well, sort of anyway.

_What's the last thing you remember? _The car with Elena and Jeremy…of course he had not been in the damned thing but he had this feeling as she was pulling away from the boarding house that something was wrong; that maybe he had seen a flash of something in the back of the car. He remembers hearing the screech and screams of twisted metal from a mile off and wonders why he couldn't have gotten there faster. _Maybe it was a bad idea to leave Ricky-Boy in the dust back there. Fuck._

He is in the sub-level of some house that is in ill repair, leaky pipes and the smell of a moldering foundation fill his nose and through the haze of vervain there is also the smell of sunlight and tree leaves. _Where are they? _

The sound of shattering glass catches his attention, blue eyes flying to a shaft of light that has entered his dank cell. Is that relief that flies through him at the sight of Saltzman's ugly mug peering through the newly made hole or is it foreboding as he realizes that the tiny blaze of sunlight just left him with a really bad sunburn. _They took my fucking ring._

"**I have bad news, Rick."**

The history teacher with a super hero side job doesn't ask what that news is at first as he drops a duffle bag through the window, the light thump of his feet hitting the ground soon after seeming so obscenely loud above the incessant _drip, drip, drip _of leaky pipes.

"**There's no time, Damon…Elena and Jeremy are out there, me and Stefan can't take on all the uh…well, all the vampires by ourselves." **Alaric pulls bolt cutters and a blood bag out of his manly makeup case and Damon wonders how the hell he fits all of his gear into it for a split second before taking an extremely dry swallow.

"**Well, there's this one problem Harry Poppins…they took my god damn ring." **The vervain is sapping him of his strength; the insult of having his ring once again removed serves as fresh salt in his wound.

Alaric pauses to stare at the upside down reputed sociopath with incredulity lingering in his eyes, **"You've got to be shitting me."**

A blood-curdling scream cuts the air and he just _knows. Elena. _Ferocity makes a startling comeback into the eldest Salvatore's eyes and an inhuman snarl that seems to unfurl like the devil's own wings is emitted from his throat. A voice that no longer resembles Damon's tenor shakes and tremors in the air, a savage demand cut like a knife from his mouth, **"Cut the locks! Now!" **

_I could go my whole life and never hear that awful sound ever again. _Embarrassed by the earthquake of fear that had coursed through him the mortal man complied, fueled by urgency he swears as the metal bites into his skin.

* * *

Blood runs down her side, staring into the eyes of not Katherine (as she had previously suspected) but some other face, some other monster. Smiling through the pain as she focuses on the livid face of a fellow brunette—taller than herself by a few inches with razor sharp cheekbones and the look of a starved model escaped from her dressing room.

"**Stop, please stop…Elena just shut up!" **Jeremy begs her, pleads with her to stop baiting the vampire that had been ordered to keep her alive. However, when one encounters _unsolicited _abuse from their captive it just had to be _acceptable _to rough them up even just a little bit.

"**How does it…feel?" **Little black dots dance in her vision and Elena knows she's going to black out soon, **"Being the…errand girl? You must…be so…proud." **This last part is ground out, teeth gritting as she focuses and sees a familiar blur out of the corner of her eye. _Stephen?_

And just then a lackey comes tumbling outdoors screaming news of an escape.

* * *

Everything happened so fast it was hard for any one of them to wrap their heads around it for weeks after.

Jeremy remembered screaming and blurred shapes clashing as Stefan fought his way through. Jeremy remembered the dying screams that break the eerie silence of the forest that surrounded them, and he remembers flashes of flame and screams of a different kind…he remembers being set free but for some reason everything just _blanks_ after that. As if the memory itself was too terrible that his mind erased it this time instead of someone else's suggestions.

Stefan remembered breaking through the tree line, the Molotov cocktail of fury and fear making his steps fast but not quite fast enough as he broke through vampire after vampire. _Where are you Damon? _The desperate thought hurdled through the barriers of his subconscious in such a manner that he does not know whether or not that was just a thought or if he had screamed it aloud. He was getting closer to Elena and Jeremy but that brunette vampire smiled at him through the fray and for a moment Stefan knew cold, bone-chilling terror. He remembered thinking: _I'm going to be too late._

Elena remembers everything, the way Stefan tore out of the woods after the Vampire had come outside. _Escape? Who escaped? _Stefan fighting, Jeremy struggling against his bonds a few feet away from her and the swirl of leaves as super humans broke the sound barrier in their struggles. And through all this the brunette remained where she had been standing, a smug smile exposing her glittering teeth as she turned to gawk at the scene for but a moment. **"He won't get to you in time and he kno—"**

The way the sun catches on the vamp's necklace catches Elena's attention…a ring? A ring that looked very, very familiar. A roar resounds and the other Salvatore brother suddenly enters the scene, bee-lining for Elena and Jeremy.

She remembered wondering where the smoke was coming from, she remembered wondering (stupidly) why the smell of burning flesh suddenly confronted her nose as Damon rams into the runway model and leaves her with a tree branch protruding from her chest as he untied Elena and fell to his knees halfway to Jeremy. _His skin is turning black and he's starting on fire, burning like a funeral pyre and for what?_

"**For…you…" **The words barely make it past his blistering lips as Elena drops to her knees and scurries to Jeremy, untying him and dragging him with her back to Damon.

"**COVER HIM UP! COVER HIM UP!" **The flimsy jacket she had been wearing serves as a poor shelter, her hysterical screams lost under the revving of an engine as a black SUV slides in front of them, Rick at the wheel.

"**Get him in! Jeremy, open the door!" **Her brother moves robotically, too shell-shocked and Stefan is there wrenching the door open as Elena touches Damon and feels flesh fall away, her hand burning when met with the embers where skin used to be. _Oh god the smell…_fighting back the urge to gag they pile in and drive back into Greater Mystic Falls in a panicked silence save for Damon's screaming and the sound of blood dripping onto the leather seats.

* * *

Damon just remembers focusing on Elena's face, running toward her as the exquisite pain knocked the unnecessary breath from his dead lungs. Later flashes he would recall snatches of conversation, being cradled in someone's arms and being carried in another's.

A full week and an obscene amount of blood later Damon regained full consciousness in a relatively dark room, the curtains were drawn and only a small lamp was lit—illuminating the exhausted face of Elena and just beyond her...his brother. Managing a half-smile he met Stefan's gaze first before glancing at Elena, **"Hey kids, what did I miss?" **He looks down at himself and is pleased to see that charred skin he was expecting is slowly knitting itself back together, his right hand is still gnarled, black and only bones and he grimaces at the sight of it.

Elena turns to Stefan and wordlessly (but full of some weird meaning) she gives him a look and the younger Salvatore turns and withdraws, shutting the door behind him with an audible 'click.' Unable to disguise his piqued interest a brow arches as Damon lifts Mr. Bone Hand, **"What? Did The Claw scare him?" **

She is still quiet and it is beginning to unnerve him, she didn't even crack a smile at his morbid humor. Growing impatient he tries to heave himself up against the pillows but Elena starts forward, **"Don't. You're supposed to be resting. You…you aren't fully healed yet." **

"**Yeah, I noticed that. How lon—"**

"**You've been in and out for a week, I've—we've been feeding you."**

_An entire week of my non-life lost? Damn. _**"Did I miss anything?"**

She doesn't answer him; instead she sits at the edge of his bed, her body sagging with fathoms deep fatigue, **"You scared me. You were so badly burned and you got so quiet when we brought you in here I thought you were dead."**

She begins wringing her hands, drawing his eyes down he sees the welts covering her hands and looks up again to meet her dark eyes, **"Are those what I think they are?" **

She nods and stops fidgeting, licking her lips that suddenly seem so damned dry, **"I had to pull you into the car…they'll heal." **

"**I'm sorry."**

And this is the catalyst because some life is jolting through her again, **"For what? You saved my life. You should have stayed inside if they had your ring; you were so fucking stupid for running out into the sun. Why did you go out?"**

What starts out as an angry tirade fades as she looks at his dumbfounded expression and he realizes that he needs to compose himself carefully lest anything else be given away that she already knows, **"You screamed…Rick cut my chains and I saw Stefan. He wouldn't have made it in time. You and Jeremy, she would have killed you both and I found it unacceptable."**

Elena starts shaking, a veil of dark hair hiding her face but he is sure it isn't laughter and for some sick reason that gratifies him. When she lifts her head up he sees the tears that burn at her tired eyes, **"I gave you some of my blood in the car, after the first ten minutes you couldn't even scream anymore. I haven't slept more than an hour a night, Jeremy is comatose. I can't…"**

His good hand reaches for her and he is surprised when she doesn't shake him off or slip away as she is so wont to do on any other occasion. Instead she takes it and squeezes gently, **"I can't go to sleep because every time I do I see it. I see you. Burning. Even the smell is there."**

"**Shhh, lay down next to me for a while, if you fall asleep I won't hold it against you." **She gingerly stretches out on top of the sheets next to him, curled on her side and facing him she holds the tears at bay.

"**Thank you, thank you for what you did for me and Jer. But do me a favor?" **She fishes his filched ring from her jeans pocket and sets it on his chest, **"Don't ever rush out into the sunlight ever again."**

"**Yes ma'am!" **

Silence falls and he can see her eyes beginning to slip closed, **"Hey Elena? There was one thing I was wondering about."**

"**Mmhmm?"**

"**Did you wear your sexy Halloween costume while you were taking care of me?" **A pause is met with his question but that soon gives way to a swift, light smack lands on his chest as Elena giggles, music to the vampire's ears.

When she falls asleep he watches her with such bald-faced adoration that it startles him. _Thank you. Thank you for taking care of me, for touching me when I was burning. For thinking about me at all, for this and everything else._

It's never what you think in the end, the true hero of the story is one person and many people. And it's them. Just them.


	11. Sick As Your Secrets

**Title**: Sick As Your Secrets  
**Fandom**: The Vampire Diaries  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Characters**: Damon and Elena  
**Prompt**: Disgust  
**Word Count**: 507  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. Inspiration comes from a Veruca Salt song of the same name.

P.S. Not my favorite one but what can you do? I'm trying to write my way out of writer's block.

* * *

He stands and looks at this newest macabre masterpiece with an eerie detachment that always serves to remind Elena that his roots in madness will never fully die. There he stands with blood smeared like gaudy lipstick across his beautiful (dangerous) mouth, with something like triumph in his hunger darkened eyes. She is bothered by the amount of detachment that she sees there, that maybe he will see her watching (spying.)

It was a foolish idea to follow him, he told her not to after all. However, Elena Gilbert was never one to listen to anyone in particular—she was too stubborn (naïve) at times to know good advice when given to her. She was not even aware that Damon had suspected (wanted) her to follow him; that there was some kind of ulterior motive and that she was once again playing right into his hands. From her vantage point she could see the young woman limp in his arms, head lolling back and hair swaying like a curtain as he fed.

He wanted (needed) her to see this, remind her that whatever image she had concocted of him in her head was nothing more than a desperate illusion to cover up what he truly was (and would always be.) No matter how many times you try to fight against your lesser natures they always seemed to get the best of you and Damon Salvatore was no different.

His grip on the now unconscious woman slackens and she slowly settles in a human puddle on the ground and he looks up, licking his lips and wiping the evidence off his mouth. Elena can't help but be strangely fascinated and disgusted at the same time, watching the languid grace that he wields like a sword. She is shocked that she finds beauty in anything that he is doing and a sudden twist in her gut seems to tell her that on some level she is becoming hardened to this depravity. That she is becoming used to violence, to the killing that seems to follow the Salvatore brothers (like a blood-hungry dog.)

Lurching backward she ducks her head for a moment, trying to come to terms with this newest revelation when a rush of air hits her. Looking up she smells leather, blood, and some other musk that she has always identified as Damon's scent. She can feel embarrassment and outrage fighting a battle as her fragile human heart beats itself against her rib cage, _is he going to be mad? I know he's going to be mad._

"**Spying? I thought you were better than that, Elena." **

His voice is sticky, sweet (saccharine) and velvet. How could it be anything else when a coat of blood painted his throat crimson, smoothing out his hunger like a hand running over warm sheets? Her lip curls; an indignant glare sparking like a lit fuse and Damon sees what he wanted to see: disgust. But then he notices something else there, something that he had not expected: understanding.


	12. Please Come Home

**Title**: Please Come Home  
**Fandom**: The Vampire Diaries  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Characters**: Damon and Elena  
**Prompt**: Shelter  
**Word Count**: 2,443  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. Inspiration comes from a One Republic song that played during that horrific scene at the end of 2x1.

"_You're the liar, Elena. There is something going on between the two of us and you know it."_

"_Damon, don't! What's wrong with you?"_

"_I love Stefan, it's always going to be Stefan."_

_Cut to blinding rage and snapped necks, quiet screams and choked breaths. _

He wakes up in a cold sweat, eyes wide and body shaking uncontrollably. Damon's hands tear through his hair as he realizes that no one is safe from him and that once again a blaring reality that he has been ignoring has resurfaced: he is a time bomb, ticking away. Usually the oldest Salvatore does not put much stock in dreams but this one is too vivid, the crime far too violent that he can believe that he would do it. Katherine was going to come back and throw boulders in the relatively quite pond of Mystic Falls, he could feel it in his bones and he could let himself know that it was real.

Pulling on his clothes he purposely avoided looking at himself in the mirror afraid that if he did he might break the mirror, break the spell, and break something. Taking only what he needed he slipped out of the Boarding House like a thief in the night, the tires of his '69 Kidnapping Camaro squealing against the cement of the driveway.

He just had to get out of here. Had to.

The first few days that he had gone missing Elena and Stefan had both taken turns pestering him; he never answered their phone calls or their various text messages but he listened or read them when he got bored enough, staring at the walls of his penthouse apartment in New York, New York. They all had some caring touch to them, full of 'where-are-you's' and 'are-you-okays?'

Their pleas had zero effect on his decision. He gorged himself on O-Negative and watched trashy television, almost sinking so low as to watch General Hospital before his senses kicked in and he went out to expand his horror movie collection.

"Where the hell could he be, Stefan? He didn't tell anyone where he was going, anything could have happened to him!"

Whose voice was this? A little high-pitched and full of worry, so much so that Stefan was looking at her with a familiar expression of concern. Thick brows knit, drawing impossibly close together to convey a form of confusion with that concern.

"Elena, Damon does this sometimes, maybe we should count our blessings and enjoy the few days of peace—"

"Peace? You don't know that he's okay or if anything happened and you are just willing to _accept_ that he's gone?"

"Look, Elena," He splayed his hands as a peace offering, shoulders dropping slightly as he studied her, hands clawing through her long brown hair and chocolate eyes wild at the corners, "there wasn't a sign of struggle, it honestly looks like he packed his things and left. I am not his baby-sitter; he does not have to tell anyone where he is going if he doesn't have to."

After a few weeks the voicemails and texts stopped being kindly concerned and started getting downright rude.

_Where the hell are you? _- Stefan.

_I swear to God Damon, if this is a joke this isn't funny! Are you okay? Can you at least tell me that much? _- Elena.

_What are you up to? I know you're scheming. _- Stefan.

_Damon. Call me please. PLEASE. Don't make me come looking for you, I don't know where to start. _- Elena.

He made coffee, slipped into a daily routine that involved washing clothes and cleaning obsessively and drinking considerable amounts of whiskey. Entertained the idea of getting a pet for about five minutes before realizing how asinine that would be considering he sometimes hunted woodland animals in cases of emergency. Went out, smoked a lot of cigarettes and ignored a lot of flirtatious women in dark, seedy bars. Attended an underground rock show and tried to feel electrified, anything but the horrible stillness as the anesthesia settled into his soul.

Now he remembered why he hated New York; it was a soul sucking place where you could get lost and no one knew him here and those that did knew him well enough to stay the hell away from him. A few times he found himself pressing the reply option on his phone or hovering between calling Elena and not calling her and in those times he had to keep himself from throwing his phone at the wall in frustration.

_I'm protecting you; _this is what he tells the ghost that hugs itself in his hallway every morning, this ghost that was once the hard edges and feline aloofness of Katherine. _You would never forgive me. _The ghost never actually talks back, her lips move but it's like someone pressed 'mute' and all he can do is guess at what she's saying to him. _Can't you just leave me alone? _He pleads with this mirage every day as he smokes his morning cigarette and stares at a lesser known Edvard Munch painting that he had stolen long, long ago. The _Madonna _stares down at him and it is almost like she pities him in his current state of madness.

"I'm going to go find him, I can't take this." She's shouldering an overnight bag, eyes boring into him with a silent challenge glimmering in them.

"Elena, you don't even know where to start, you said that yourself." His voice is quiet and tired because he does not want to fight with her, her frenzied behavior having taken its toll. She'll probably find some way to take offense to this, he's sure of it.

"At least I'm going to try; he wouldn't just leave home without saying goodbye to anyone, Stefan."

"To you, you mean." He can hear ugliness creeping into his voice and he hates himself for it but he can't take the words back as soon as he hears them aloud.

"What?"

He can see the fire ignite and god damn it he wants to _put it out. _Shake her and tell her that she is supposed to love only _him,_ ask her why she feels so fucking driven to go out and find the one person that had caused so many problems for them in the first place.

"You heard me. I thought you and Damon were just friends, nothing else to it. What is going on with you two?" His tone is accusing, his eyes dark and furious.

"I don't have time for this, Stefan. I'll see you in a few days; we'll talk about it then."

She leaves him standing in a big empty house with all of his worst fears confirmed.

It is now his one month anniversary of breaking up with Mystic Falls and Damon only receives two text messages.

_Damon, she's coming to find you. She left two hours ago and if she gets hurt I'll fucking kill you. _- Stefan.

_I'm coming to find you, please, please, please answer me. I have no idea where I'm going. _- Elena.

A wave of panic crashes, as the New York City wolf paces in his den. Furious, worried, and intrigued he knows he is going to have to answer her, he can't let her get lost.

_1055 Park Avenue, Upper East Side New York City, Penthouse Suite – Top Floor. I'll tell the doorman to let you in. Don't stop at any seedy darkly lit gas stations if you don't have to. _

He doesn't say anything else to her but she almost has a car accident when she gets the message but she quickly sets up her GPS, fills up her tank, pops in a CD, and drives. All night without stopping, 400 miles covered and then she's in NYC with its bright lights and loud, loud, loud streets that mill with thousands of pedestrians. It takes her three hours to get to the damn place and it looms above her, intimidating. She pulls up and a man in a uniform is standing outside with his hands folded, waiting for something.

Self-conscious and feeling under-dressed she approaches him, nervous with arms folded defensively across her chest as if expecting to be rebuffed. "Ex-Excuse me…"

"Miss Elena Gilbert?" The man smiles, there's a twinkle in his eyes that she recognizes as friendliness and she breathes a sigh of relief.

"Yes, that's me…er…Damon Salvatore told you about me?"

"Yes, he did. Let me pull your car around and I'll take you inside."

_She's coming, she's coming…_ He can feel her, and he paces again with a cigarette in hand. The ghost has disappeared, has stopped tormenting him. Damon couldn't have slept if he'd tried, several times his hand had come in contact with the elevator button and he might have run out to go find her where ever she might have been.

_The elevator just reached the top of the building. _Faster than the eye could blink Damon was waiting in front of those shiny metal doors, waiting for her. Arms crossed nonchalantly over his chest as plays with the cigarette that's pressed between his lips; an honest attempt at trying to behave as though he wasn't too excited or pleased to be seeing her.

But as those doors opened it was chaos theory in action. As soon as they saw each other all pretenses went out the window as she flung herself at him with arms and fists, his cigarette flying from his mouth to roll and burn away at the floor. Pummeling him for his stupidity, for scaring her.

It felt good to hold her, to know that it was on purpose and that he would not be punished for it until much later.

Pushing her away from him so that he could get a better look at her he bit back a laugh, "Now tell me why in the hell are you here, 'Lena?"

Her eyes were dark; her lips pulled down in a frown as she made the tears that had threatened disappear.

"I came to bring you home."

They sit directly across from each other, so close that their knees are touching and Damon can't help but wonder at the stubbornness that possesses Elena like a demon. She has not left him alone about why he cannot come home, she refuses to budge until he tells her just what happened that made him run away like frightened child.

"I just can't, I don't want to explain it to you."

"Why?" She is challenging him now, leaning forward and invading his personal space. "You just ran away, you just left and didn't think anyone would want to know where you were or why you'd gone?"

"Well, yeah pretty much."

The nonchalance of his answer is a slap in the face and if Elena had fangs she would probably be bearing them right this second. Damon couldn't look her in the eye and found that once again his gaze was caught by the _Madonna, _wondering why he had been so drawn to the rather dark and decadent painting in the first place.

Elena's hand gripped his jaw and forced him to look back at her, lips quivering as she put her other hand along his jaw, "Tell me why you won't come back home."

He leans forward as well, meeting her halfway, letting his forehead meet hers as he sighed and nearly folded in on himself. "Listen, let's just say I had this dream…and this dream is going to become very, very real if I don't…if I don't stay away from Mystic Falls. It's like fucking Nightmare on Elm Street shit, Freddie Krueger on steroids, capiche?"

"I-I'm confused. You aren't coming back because of a dream? What the hell was this dream about?"

"Are you sure you want to hear about it?"

She nodded.

So he told her.

Later she would stare at him with her mouth slightly agape, eyebrows in danger of disappearing into her hairline. He felt very much like an idiot, covering up his impatient fidgeting with a long, languid stretch.

"You. Are. Insane." She enunciates every word slowly and carefully to make sure that he hears her. Her hands had fallen away from his face halfway through the story because the entire thing is so detailed and so…strange.

He looks up from studying the floor and a smile cracks his lips, exposing white teeth as he starts to chuckle. Surprisingly enough Elena started to giggle as well, a hand reaching up to cover her mouth to muffle the impending laughter but to no avail. The apartment that had been empty and quiet for weeks was now echoing with laughter from both parties, doubled over in their chairs with tears in their eyes.

They are both out on the balcony afterward, Elena has a cup of cocoa in her hands and Damon is smoking yet again and looking out at the bright, never sleeping city. She steals his cigarette and takes a puff; nearly choking on her laughter at Damon's stupefied expression.

"Who _are_ you?"

Elena grins and gives him back the cigarette, exhaling slowly before taking another sip of her cocoa, "I am a crazed lunatic that drove 400 miles to make sure that you weren't dead or doing something else self-destructive."

"I kind of like this lunatic girl."

Later when she's tying the drawstrings on her pajama pants and clambering onto the over-stuffed couch beside him she simultaneously puts her head on his shoulder and grabs his hand, watching as the opening credits of_ Halloween _roll across the screen. Damon's entire body goes rigid and then relaxes a moment later, eyes trained carefully on the screen.

It's later when she's falling asleep against him that she pleads with him one more time, not by voicemail or text but with a quiet, drowsy voice that sounds small and sad.

"Please Damon, please come home."

"Where is this home you speak of?" His voice is quiet, nonchalant as he looks down at her with a guarded expression.

"It's with me…and Stefan." He knew that she had been hoping that all of that would be enough and god damn her it had been. Even if Stefan was an addition in that equation there had been a pause there, she wanted him to come for her, with her even.

"I _suppose._ New York was getting boring anyway, too many people not enough that mattered. A little bit like a Broadway musical." He chuckles at his own joke and feels Elena take his hand and guide it to her lips as she presses a kiss into his palm.

**A/N: **In case you are sitting there wondering WTF just happened this oneshot implies that everything from the Damon/Katherine kiss up to 2x1 was nothing but a horrible dream because that's what it is to me. Any questions just ask, I dunno how I feel about this one either.


	13. Catharsis

**Title**: Catharsis  
**Fandom**: The Vampire Diaries  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Characters**: Elena  
**Prompt**: Borrowed  
**Word Count**: 2,443  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own the Vampire Diaries or its characters. Only my ideas.

**Notes: ** Not my best but I felt that maybe I should try and catch things from Elena's perspective for a change.

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_My name is Elena Gilbert and some days I feel the only thing I have is that name. My identity. Even that is growing blurry these days. I have done things lately that I would never have done a few years ago and sometimes when I have time enough to myself to think back on everything I become terrified of what I might do in the days or weeks to come. Is this reality? This constant state of fear that I find myself living in, is this normal? _

_I wake up from nightmares that I can remember with perfect clarity. Nightmares in which the world I know and the people in it are burning and there are faces outside the flames, watching with sick satisfaction. Nightmares in which my hands are bloodied and Stefan and Damon lay dead at my feet and no matter how much I pretend to myself that it was Katherine standing there I know that it was me. Everyone has taken up for me without knowing why or how and they leave me stranded in my house like a princess trapped in a castle. I am not waiting for rescue now because I know that my hour of truth draws near—the hour when Elijah and I will see our bargain reach fruition. _

_I watch Stefan and Damon make plans, Bonnie casting spells, Caroline coming to terms with new feelings and her newfound immortality, Jeremy with his girl issues and his bumpy journey into manhood, Alaric and his relationship with Jenna. I watch them carefully as I build my walls, thicken my skin and try to do the right thing. I'm sick and tired of being told I'm wrong, I'm over-dramatic, and I'm suicidal._

_Maybe I am those things but I do not tell them that. I do not tell them that I can see the rationality in what I am doing with perfect clarity. A large part of me has accepted that because of my deal I may or may not live to see the consequences take to the light but I am resolute. No one else around me will die, my friends will graduate from high school, my aunt will have a happy and fulfilling life, and Jeremy will finally have a girlfriend that doesn't up and die on him. Damon will accept humanity and take a step in the saner direction and Stefan will learn to embrace his whole self and not just the more attractive parts of it._

_In a perfect world._

_In a perfect world I would not love the both of them as much as I do. I would not pursue one brother while shunning the other, I would not lie to myself and live under the delusion that Damon could never change or that Stefan will change. Even though I crave the truth I realize that sometimes lies make things easier to swallow and in these few moments that I recognize this I understand Damon better than anyone else._

_My name is Elena Gilbert and I am a human teenage girl. I am full of contradictions, questions, fears, and worries, I ramble, I worry, and I feel guilty for even having the audacity to feel any of what I'm feeling. It would be so much easier if I could numb myself to the events that are occurring around me but I have realized that I want to feel it, that I want to feel all of it while I still can._

_Because now I know what living on borrowed time really means._

_Yours,_

_Elena_


	14. Wish You Were Here

**Title**: Wish You Were Here  
**Fandom**: The Vampire Diaries  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Characters**: Elena, Damon, Caroline, Bonnie, Alaric  
**Prompt**: Chair  
**Word Count**: 1,047  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own the Vampire Diaries or its characters. Only my ideas.

**Notes: **I'm sorry this took forever, writer's block and a combination of other common writer's ailments kept me from going but I shall persevere.

* * *

She stands without seeing, a hand resting on an over-stuffed chair in the living room of her Aunt Jenna's house and is flung back into memories that twist in her gut like the blade of a knife.

_This is Jenna's chair…this is the chair she won't ever sit in again. Her coffee mug is still in the sink because I can't touch it but she would want me to do the dishes, snapping a dish rag at me and pretending to be the evil slave driver aunt she never was. She used to advise me from this chair with that mug of coffee clasped in her hands—she would tell me how she would deal with unruly boys or stories about my parents._

She will never tell them again.

It has only been a few weeks since her funeral, Damon's miraculous recovery, and Stefan's disappearance but the wound is still fresh and weeping. She has people filing in and out of the house at all hours of the day and night to keep her company but really, she knows that they are all watching her and Jeremy. Even though Jenna's presence hardly kept the younger Gilberts out of trouble she was what brought them together and made them _normal_.

Elena glares at the chair suddenly and with strength previously unknown to her she shoved the chair away from her, watching it skid across the family room and collide with the couch. The tears were coming again, prickling at the corners of her eyes and bathing her eyelashes even as she shoved her fists in them to stop it from coming.

"**It isn't fair."**

A noise comes from behind her and she whirls expecting to see Jeremy standing there with a dumbfounded expression but instead she is confronted by Bonnie and Caroline. The sympathy in their eyes makes her angry and she forgets that they have also lost people, and that they also know what it feels like to feel completely and utterly alone. She chokes back her angry words and looks away from them as she stalks purposely up the stairs to cry in peace.

* * *

She hasn't even dared to come into this room since Jenna's funeral, she has not touched a single thing and it still felt as if she lived there. Any second Jenna was going to bang through the door complaining about some doornail driver going twenty under the speed limit, any second Jenna was going to come in and ask Elena why she was standing in the doorway and ask her where the funeral was.

"**It was at the cemetery…it was a Tuesday. I've been back every day and I look for you all the time and…"**

A hand tentatively touches her shoulder and she swings around, fists cocked. Damon stood there in the waning evening light, his standard glass of booze strangely absent and some unreadable expression bouncing back in forth in the strange light of his blue eyes.

_SMACK! _

The first blow falls and then before she can stop herself she is pummeling him, screaming like a banshee in a language that Damon understands quite well: grief. She sinks to the floor in hysterics and Damon follows her down as a stampede of feet bang up the stairs—Caroline and Bonnie holding onto each other as they watch Elena completely unhinge in a way they haven't seen since her parents funerals.

"**It isn't fair, Damon! None of this is fair…I feel like…I feel like I was the one that stole everything from her. Why did this have to happen? She's gone and Stefan's…gone…" **Her broken sobs slice and claw at the silence and the witch and vampire on the stairs cling to each other just a little bit tighter.

Damon does not find it necessary to speak, he lets her rave on and holds on to her even as she kicks and slaps to get away from him. This is not a time to allow her to get distance and rebuild her walls, he holds her even when she screams she hates him, he holds her until her sobs subside and she goes slack in his arms.

* * *

Later as he puts her to bed and pulls the covers up to her chin he knows that she is strong enough to overcome this, even if she does not believe it of herself.

He ambles down the stairs to find Bonnie and Caroline talking quietly in the kitchen and watches as Caroline washes out Jenna's mug, drying it carefully with a towel before putting it at what used to be Jenna's place at the dinner table, pushing in a chair that would remain empty for a long, long time.

He works on the carnage in the family room, picking up pictures that had been knocked over and the rug that had rumpled as the chair snagged on it. Pulling it back into place he hears Rick coming up the steps and chooses to meet him outside.

"**Is she doing okay?" **Saltzman doesn't know what to do with himself, that much is clear. Hands in pockets as he tries to disguise his own pain at Jenna's passing.

"**She'll be fine. If there's anything I have figured out over the years it is that love is stronger than death and as easily as faith is lost it's found again in the most unlikely places."**

He can see the surprise registered in the teacher's eyes and smirks ever so slightly, **"What? I can't wax philosophical every once in a while, Rick?"**

"**N-No I'm just…surprised."**

"**I'm full of them but here's an old line for you: Tell anyone I said that and I'll kill you." **Back to familiarity and a more masculine comfort zone that Alaric secretly appreciated. To dwell too long on past hurts was still embarrassing as far as the male department.

"**Let's go inside and get a drink."**


	15. Lady Grinning Soul

**Title**: Lady Grinning Soul  
**Fandom**: The Vampire Diaries  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Characters**: Elena, Damon, Caroline, Bonnie, Tyler, Alaric  
**Prompt**: Alter  
**Word Count**: 1,093  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own the Vampire Diaries or its characters. Only my ideas.

**Notes: **If anyone knows what that title is referring to I will give them a cookie. And I wanted to make an upbeat story for once, all the emo was getting to me.

* * *

"What in the HELL are you wearing?" Elena's eyes are widened with surprise as a laugh is torn from her throat, folding in half as the sound seems to swallow the room. Her eyes are fixated on a figure before her usually clad in black, black, black with some black on the side and a glass of scotch tight in hand. _This is not normal._

Damon twirls for her, white jump suit spackled with what looks like a rather vicious paint ball attack. There's a blue lightning bolt going down the side of his face and is he…is he wearing _blush? _It is Halloween again in Mystic Falls but never before has Damon Salvatore lowered himself as to dress up for it. Then again they were hosting the party at the boarding house and maybe he was feeling just a little _festive. _

"Do you not know who I am, darling?" He adopted an outrageous Cockney accent and waggled his hips for effect as Elena rolled around on the floor, barely able to breathe.

"You're…you're wearing that? Who are you supposed to be? A…A drag queen?"

"Hell no! Although I have seen some of the most fabulous glitter queens strutting around in England and New York…they were inspired by this man."

The blank stare he was receiving was certainly not encouraging. _I despair for the younger generations—honestly. _With a patient sigh he decided to enlighten the eldest Gilbert to some seventies music history.

"David Bowie ring a bell? Also known as Ziggy Stardust, the Thin White Duke, that guy from the Labyrinth with the outrageous codpiece?" Throwing up his hands in mock surrender he strutted his way across the room to the stereo and soon enough "Golden Years" was thrumming through the room and he finally saw a spark of recognition.

"Ohmigod this song was in A Knight's Tale!" Picking herself up off the floor Elena was still suffering from a milder case of the giggles. Damon was going to have to put Alaric on the spot later for failing to illustrate the full beauty of music during the seventies, a complete rebirth of sound and enlightenment.

"I give up on you! You are completely hopeless! Go get your costume ready, ridiculous woman!"

* * *

The guests were starting to slowly trickle in, and true to modern Halloween fashion half the women that sashayed inside on high, high heels were wearing some form of Disney princess costume cut in an altogether revealing fashion. The men were either impersonating the Blues Brothers, Harold and Kumar, and other costumes that ranged from boring to ludicrous. Damon presided over it all with amusement, hand gripping his trademark glass of scotch, watching for the more familiar faces of the Supernatural Inner Circle. As Caroline entered with Tyler Damon had to fight the instinct to roll his eyes, eying the obscenely perky blond as he made his way up to the pair he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Buffy the Vampire Slayer, really? Your attempt at irony is pitiful! Where's Bonnie? Please tell me that she came out of the closet as your lesbian witch sidekick!"

Tyler was trying hard to choke back his own laughter, shifting from foot to foot in his zombie jock regalia as Caroline's grip on her plastic stake got just a little bit tighter.

"Watch it, Damon! At least I didn't get attacked at the gay bar!" Stalking away with the werewolf in tow Damon threw up his hands in despair.

"I'M ZIGGY STARDUST DAMN IT!"

* * *

Bonnie came in much later, inspired no doubt by that rancid Austin Powers movie Goldmember, somehow Damon suspected that she had used more magic than hair product to get that afro going. She was far too young to even begin to know who Foxy Brown was but at least someone was thinking in the same general decade as himself.

Alaric snuck in shortly after and Damon had a good chuckle, the history teacher was dressed up as a very stylish Harvey Dent. Of course the elders of this debauchery would band together to fend off horny, drunk school girls and keep the frat boys from downing ALL the kegs at once. The teacher was suitably uncomfortable and Damon was sucking it all in with a smile although he was beginning to wonder…

"SO WHERE'S ELENA?" Shouting above the din it would appear that his human companion did not remember that Damon had preternatural hearing as one of his abilities and just as the vampire winced through his makeup Alaric seemed to remember.

"GEE RICK, I'M NOT SURE. SHE'S BEEN WAITING TO MAKE HER GRAND ENTRANCE FOR THE PAST THREE HOURS."

The teacher/vampire hunter/ally/whatever he was now shot him a look that said 'point made.' At least Saltzman actually recognized the costume and so the entire evening was not a complete loss. Just as Damon was about to go look for the missing Gilbert he caught her scent through the crowd and turned as a David Bowie remix began to shake the walls of the boarding house. Dressed as a ballerina with exquisite makeup he had to think back on recent movies, taking hints from the black feathers on her arms.

As she approached she grinned and popped her hip out in a playful fashion, "So who am I?"

He had to look her over, that disgustingly male part of his brain appreciating the clinging fabric and whoever had done her makeup deserved a few compliments.

"That crazy chick from the Black Swan?" The movie in which he'd accidentally dropped in on girl's night, right as the lesbian scene played.

"Very good!" A smirk plays on her lips as she extends her hand to him, "Shall we Ziggy?"

Shrugging and with a pathetic look of mock resignation he turns to Alaric who shoos him off with a motion of his hand.

"Did I ever mention that I only just now rediscovered my love of Halloween?" He murmurs this in her ear before dipping her, the sound of her laughter rising above the music.


End file.
